


don't be shy

by lisafrankcave



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Edging, Gender-Neutral Apprentice (The Arcana), Light Dom/sub, Multi, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise, Stripping, nadia is HORNY, no intoxicated sex here despite the description, oops no beta haha fuck, she had one (1) sip and put it down, soft dom nadia, the merlot can wait, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:01:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26472304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisafrankcave/pseuds/lisafrankcave
Summary: It took a lot to make Nadia put down her wine.  Unless, of course, it came to you.
Relationships: Apprentice/Nadia (The Arcana), Nadia (The Arcana)/Reader, Nadia (The Arcana)/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 74





	don't be shy

**Author's Note:**

> Fic number 2 in my body pillow series; credit to https://apprenticealec.tumblr.com/ for the idea of this series and https://arcanecadenza.tumblr.com/ for writing the comment that inspired this fic!

Standing before her, you wondered how she managed to make you feel so naked, even when you were fully clothed and had every mental barrier up that you could. 

Call it luck, or good sense, or intuition: either way, she missed no detail, no wrinkle of the brow or hair out of place. You considered yourself lucky she used her power for good.

Nadia had only managed a couple of sips of her merlot before you’d stumbled upon her, telling yourself to keep your eyes from wandering away from her face to her chest to her long, shapely legs (and failing miserably). She set the glass of wine aside: she wanted to be as sober as possible for what was to come. One manicured finger beckoned you over, lips quirking upward into a playful smile, before telling you to stop where you were. And so you stood.

Garnet eyes studied every shape of you, seemingly committing your current state to memory; something inside you whispered that you would not leave this corner of her bedroom looking as put-together as when you entered.

“My jewel,” she cooed, “be a dear and lay down with me, would you?” 

“Of course.” Without hesitation you stepped forward, before she stopped you again, a wicked pink gleam in her eye.

“Oh no, that simply won’t do.” Nadia’s eyes narrowed slightly, smile growing into a grin. Head cocking forward and to the side, you waited for the next instruction.

“Shed your clothes for me, my love.” The voice she used was syrupy, dripping with the kind of honey that would trap some poor unwitting fly to its paper grave; fortunately, your fate would be something to look forward to, so you wandered into the flytrap willingly, eagerly.

“Yes, Nadia.” You had learned quickly that ‘your highness,’ as appropriate as it had felt the one time you let it slip, was not a favorite epithet of hers: she much preferred her name, or ‘Countess,’ or ‘Mistress,’ among others. 

One by one, your layers of clothing hit the floor: a fine, patterned sash, a lightweight robe, the luxurious silk pajama set given to you for lounging around your newly decorated wing. Just as your fingers reached the waistband of your undergarments, she spoke again.

“Stop.” Firm, but casual. You paused.

“Seduce me.” Nadia coolly adjusted her position until she was in a prime spot for gazing and being gazed upon, her legs and cleavage still on full display. Blood rushed to your ears, your pulse quickening. The urge to bring your thumb to your lips, an unconscious gesture of deep-in-thought, hit you like a freight train, and suddenly you had an idea.

Slowly, you ran your thumb across your lip, bringing your fingertips down your jaw, neck, and chest, and back up again to play with your hair. Across from you, Nadia shifted into an open-leg position. She liked what she saw.

Your hands traveled back down to your waistband, thumbs wriggling beneath the fabric. Shimmying, you slowly pulled the offending garment down, finally nude before her. She but her lip as she eyed you up and down, nodding her approval.  
At a seemingly glacial pace, you moved to her bed, sinking your knees into the mattress, crawling up to her. In milliseconds, the hollows of your cheekbones were squished inward by delicate fingertips.

“Consider me seduced,” she chuckled, loosening her grip to trace your jawline with her pointed nails. 

A lush, breezy scent of sweet tropical flowers and clean silk wafted to your nostrils as she leaned towards you. Her lipstick tasted faintly of something tart and jamlike, felt more balmy than waxy against your mouth. It would leave a red stain on your lips and everywhere else it touched. You couldn’t wait to have it all over you.

Fortunately, neither could she: Nadia’s mouth moved to the corner of your mouth, to your chin, your jaw, and then down your neck. It left little red marks from mouth to navel to inner thigh: a trail of “I was here,” of “this is mine.”  
Did an hour pass, or was it just a few minutes? It almost didn’t matter. Either way, reality hit like a brick with a squeeze of your thigh.

“Is there something you’re trying to tell me?” She teased. You looked down; you had been absentmindedly gripping the soft brown skin of her bare thigh, straddling it with your own. 

Well, you thought, might as well.

“Yes.” 

Nadia was visibly delighted at the idea of it. Ask and ye shall receive.

“How convenient,” she purred, nipping at a spot close to your ear. Her hand traced your side, brushing one hip before stroking the bare skin of your thigh.

She continued, whispering, “I had planned to have you ride my thigh anyway.”

Her thigh lifted up to brush against your arousal, punctuating her remark and startling you slightly at the sudden contact. Suddenly, as she lowered it back in place, you were keenly aware of the throbbing, almost-painful heat between your legs.   
Lowering yourself onto her, you took a moment to catch your breath. As your eyes met hers again, Nadia bit her lip, cheeks a brilliant ruby against her bronze skin, and set her glistening gaze on you and only you. Her soft fingertips traced your collarbone before moving to your chest and stomach, ending at your hip.

“What a lovely sight you are,” she purred, adding, “Do remind me to have a tasteful nude of you made for my...private collection.”

“Where would you hang it?” You asked, more rhetorically than anything else, but she had an answer immediately.

“Between the woodblock print of the Zadithi monarch getting ravished with a strap-on and that stunning marble nude of Venus that you like so much,” she replied casually, eyes sparkling with admiration and curatorial vision. The thought of being immortalized in oil paint and having that image hung prominently next to some of the most stunning erotic art in the world was almost too much. 

“Don’t be shy,” she said, breaking the tense silence. “You need not perform, or put on a show for me: I want your natural state—I want you.”

Those three words lit a fire within you, spurred on further by the ravenous look on her face.

At that, you started to move, rubbing against smooth, moisturized skin. A hand resting on your hip gripped it tightly.

“Slow down, dearest,” she smirked, “I want to savor this.”

It’ll be more satisfying to work for it: such was the mantra you repeated to yourself as you slowly, delicately brushed against the countess’ thigh with barely-there motions. Any time you felt yourself get close, you stopped completely, much to the approval of the woman under you. 

“Such a good consort.” 

Nadia’s honeyed voice as she praised you sent a shiver down your spine and pinpricks down the skin of your arms and back. It delighted her to know she had such an effect on you. Picking up the pace again, you felt that it was now getting harder and harder to control the onset of orgasm.

“Stop.” 

Her tone this time was firmer, more demanding, and she held your hips in place. You sat like that, straddling her thigh, waiting for the next command; she only sat up and basked in the growing flush on your face and chest. 

At a near-glacial pace, she moved her hands up to cup your chest, giving a light squeeze before tracing a line down your stomach with her fingernail. Keeping her touch feather-light, she ran her hands up and down your torso, letting out a pleased hum every time you shuddered as she touched a more sensitive area. Skilled fingers stroked your inner thighs before tracing what they found between them. 

“Perfect,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss your shoulder, leaving another wine-red lipstick print there to be admired later.

“M-may I come soon?” you asked, before tacking on, “Please?”

Nadia pondered your request for a moment and smiled softly, taking your chin in her hand.

“Since you asked so politely,” she cooed, “I will allow it.”

Finally. A rush of relief washed over you in the form of a cool shiver. 

Once again, you moved against her thigh, slowly at first. Thoughts and flashes of Nadia’s thighs wrapped around your shoulders, of the smell of a tropical breeze and the taste of her on your tongue, of the feeling of her using your favorite toy on you, all rushed through your mind as you rode her. She tightened the muscle there, winking at you, and had to take a moment to breathe.

After your quick break, you quickened your pace, grinding yourself against her with a newfound enthusiasm, chasing your orgasm. Burying your face into her neck, you gasped and swore as you came, tired legs trembling before giving out. Toned arms wrapped around you, one holding you as the other stroked your hair while you came down.

“Thank you,” you sighed, feeling your body relax against hers. The words felt good in your mouth; you muttered them a few more times, a show of gratitude. Nadia chuckled a little, kissing your forehead as she brushed hair out of your face.

“No, my love, thank you,” she praised, looking at you like you placed the stars in the sky. She held you close to her, rubbing your back and peppering your face with kisses, for several minutes. Eventually, she tipped your head up to look at her directly.

“If you’d like,” Nadia proposed, “I will show you exactly what effect you have had on me.” 

Your cheeks flushed redder than her lips; there was nothing you wanted more in the world.


End file.
